#anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk have a wonderful day

[chaifighter]

Ok but what if I really want to hear your Orson Scott Card rant?

...You asked for this.

This is definitely harder to deliver in text format than verbally, but I'll do my best.

Ender's Game is a seminal science fiction novel from the mid 80's about a space war between Earth and an insectoid alien species referred to as "buggers" (they have an actual name I think but I don't remember it). The war has been raging for years, Earth has effectively united to fight it, and particularly intelligent children are taken by the military to train at an orbital boot camp to be the next generation of soldiers. Our protagonist Ender Wiggin, a genius to end all geniuses, is taken to this space station to begin this training. (Ender is a usually-illegal third child who the government gave his parents special permission to produce, since their first two children were both unaccountably brilliant but too violent (Peter) or too gentle (Valentine) to be good child soldiers, which is uhhhh pretty eugenicist BUT THAT'S NOT THE SUBJECT OF THIS PARTICULAR TED TALK-)

The main body of the book covers Ender's time at battle school and is pretty solidly entertaining, with some genuinely interesting thought experiments on zero-g battles and psychological management and manipulation of a young fighting force (though it's, yanno, undercut by the full-page out of nowhere antisemitic raving. I'm not fucking kidding, there's slurs and everything, it's. Fucking wild.) but the really important stuff comes at the end of the book, when Ender and his trusted group of friends are put through a grueling series of simulations designed as a graduation test. Through this series of simulations, Ender, gifted and cursed with an incredible depth of empathy, begins to understand the buggers in a way that no one has before, and by understanding them, knows how to end them. To quote directly:

"In the moment when I truly understand my enemy, understand him well enough to defeat him, then in that very moment I also love him. I think it's impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves."

Through this understanding, he realizes that the buggers are a hive mind, and that by destroying the center of that hive mind, he can win. So he does, and the simulation ends. And then they tell him he just won the war. He has given real orders to real soldiers, and he has exterminated the buggers. He has loved his enemy, and he has destroyed them.

Compassion is the key theme of Ender's Game. It is what makes Ender and what breaks him when it is exploited. Empathy and understanding for someone deeply, incomprehensibly different from you.

So then we come to Orson Scott Card, great-great-grandson of Brigham Young, a virulent homophobe, a racist (called Obama "a black man who talks like a white man" as an explanation of his success in politics) and antisemite (looking at that FUCKING page again). He wrote this entire book that hinges on empathy, but either refuses or abjectly fails to apply that notion to his own life. It is genuinely remarkable to me that someone can craft a narrative so explicitly about the one trait they seem to lack entirely and not allow it to open some window of understanding into their own shortcomings.

But we're not quite done yet. Let's talk about Xenocide.

Xenocide is the first of 3 sequels to Ender's Game, set some hundreds/thousands (can't remember, it's a long fuckin time) of years after the events of the first book. Humanity has spread across the universe and settled other planets. The book tells the story of a small human community on a planet predominantly inhabited by the pequeninos, a race of piglike sentients with whom human contact is limited to two specific researchers. The researchers' interactions with the pequeninos are going well -- until one day the body of one of the humans is found vivisected by the pequeninos. Later in the book, it happens to the other researcher as well. All this, very understandably, threatens to spark a war.

Then the discovery is made -- the late life cycle stage of a pequenino is to transition from one of the piglike creatures into a tree, which is the form that is actually capable of reproduction. This transition, bestowed upon members of the species who have done something significant or remarkable, is done by vivisection, after which the body sprouts. The pequeninos believed they were bestowing an honor upon the researchers they killed, and were confused when they did not proceed into the next stage of life. When they learn that they in fact killed them, they mourn.

I am so genuinely fascinated by this story as a work of science fiction. I read this book pretty young, but this is all from memory, it stuck with me that vividly. When two species so utterly alien to each other begin to interact, a simple assumption of similarity can end in tragedy, even during acts of respect or good will. It's juicy! It's thought-provoking! The pequeninos are convincingly alien and the scenario makes sense. And the key thing is that they are people, they cared, they wanted to show their respect for the humans they admired. Empathy, speaking with them and understanding their view of the situation, was the only way to move forward in a constructive way, to avoid war and prevent further tragedy.

Another fascinating thing in this book: the concept of a Speaker for the Dead. Through the time-distorting effects of intergalactic travel, Ender is in his mid-30's in Xenocide, having spent the intervening centuries as a Speaker for the Dead, a position named after the role he assumed in writing his own book about the buggers as a species, laying out their story postmortem. The job of a Speaker is to tell the story of a life as the person viewed themselves -- returning once again to empathy, this time as an almost ritualized practice, as a Speaker arrives to a place where they have been requested and has to piece together the life of the deceased in order to tell the tale. (A friend of mine once promised to be my Speaker if I died first, if I'd promise the same. I think that promise still holds, though I somehow doubt both our capabilities toward the task as writ.)

Orson Scott Card loves empathy. It's one of his main themes. He keeps coming back to it, keeps emphasizing it in new and varied ways. And then he turns around and is a fucking asshole in real life. And you can't help but wonder - does he think he's succeeded? Does he think that he's managed to interact with the world in a kind and empathetic way? Does he somehow believe that he truly understands all these groups he seems to actively disdain, to campaign against, to view as alien? Does he think he loves them the way they love themselves?

After 71 spiteful little years on this planet, I somehow don't think change is in the cards for this man before he shuffles off the mortal coil. And yet I can't help thinking... he could stand to read his own books sometime. He might learn something.

[voidshrubsquared]

Listen. Listen to me

Do you know how much I LOVE that comic? IT'S SO GOOD SO SO SO GOOD

We get to see a glimpse of Click's inner workings! How his mind operates!! His complicated relationship with himself and the other pinks and what it is to BE a pink!!!! Is he just like them? Are they all the same?? Is HE the horrible one??? Is he not horrible ENOUGH???? WHO KNOWS!!! And the 'I miss my department' like MANS DOESN'T WANNA BE THERE!!! HE DOESN'T WANNA THINK ABOUT IT!!!! HE HATES IT HERE CAUSE INTERACTING WITH THESE GUYS MAKES HIM THINK TOO MUCH💕💖💕💖

Like, what if they're all the same? Then Click isn't special and he's just another darkner abiding by the rules of his code.

What if the others laced the candy platter and he didn't? Then Click is too soft, they'll eat him alive out there! How is he going to survive!!

What if he's projecting and nobody else even thought of lacing the candy? Does that mean he's just a horrible person in general? Is it not just a pink thing and more a HIM thing?

And then the visuals, the zooming in into the one piece of candy among all the others in the candy platter as he does Thoughts™

O U G H OVJJSBBCKROLNXNFODOF

DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHY I LOVE HIM DO YOU GET WHY I WANT TO INJECT HIM DIRECTLY INTO MY BLOODSTREAM THIS IS WHY HE'S MY FAVORITE ADDISON HIS WRITING IS IMMACULATE

[roseglazedlens]

⦑ THE FUCKING DEAD ⦒ 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥’𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ➠ series masterlist | ⏪prologue | 🔃boy’s route | ⏩part 4

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓┇𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑┇𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐅𝐈𝐂┇𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 JILL VALENTINE X AFAB GN! READER ADA WONG X AFAB GN! READER synopsis: You split ways with Leon and Carlos, choosing to accompany Jill and Ada to Glenn Arias' office. One of you is already infected... content: 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, dubcon, threesome, zombie fucking, oral (reader & f! receiving), toys (vibrator + strap-on in one hole), squirting, fisting, knifeplay, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, latex kink, face sitting, cervix penetration, tonguefuck, hand & finger kink, nipple play, mating press (kinda), choking, body marking, body horror, slight objectification, body fluids, and pet names (kitty, darling). a/n: am gay thanks for cumming to my ted talk « 6 k words | general masterlist | ao3 | reblogs appreciated! »

The five of you parted ways—for better or worse. Is there a choice for you anyway? This is unanimous from everyone. So, you decide to follow the most logical choice: complete the mission as you are instructed, instead of seeking distractions with time you can’t afford to lose.

Leon and Carlos bid the three of you farewell, venturing underground to locate the source of a gas that may or may not be a distraction or an ambush. You, Jill, and Ada will continue upstairs to infiltrate Glenn Arias’ personal office, retrieving the concentrated sample with utmost priority, and regroup with the rest before Arias has a chance to discover his merchandise has gone missing.

The plan is perfect, what’s there to be worried about?

“Our intel says Arias’ office should be on the top floor. The coordinates are on your watch. Proceed with caution, everyone.” Rebecca calls out into your earpiece. Twisting your elbow, you glimpse at your watch. It blinks with your location in green, and destination in red, two floors above you.

“Copy.” You and Jill acknowledge Rebecca, but Ada ignores, simply hiking forward with her pistol leading the way.

“She must be fun at parties.” Jill snorts, following behind her.

This is the first time Jill talks after splitting up with the boys. And even then, she only ever converses with you, and never to Ada. They have almost nothing in common between them, besides their stubborn attitude that only butts at each other’s heads. If you aren’t around, there will only be an air of dead silence between the duo.

But these two are your friends, and you like them both for different reasons.

You recall a past memory between you. “She’s not usually like this outside of missions. We went to a bar one time, and Ada got me free drinks all night. Poor suckers, she swindled them all.”

“Just the two of you?”

“No, it was an afterparty. Rebecca was there. I think you had to stay back for work that day. Why?”

Your eyes meet Jill in confusion, and they quickly dart away. Jill clears her throat to speak again. “So you and Ada are close, huh?”

“I think so,” Jill’s face hints a bit of disappointment, but she tries to force her lips to upturn into a nonchalant smile. You don’t notice this and continue talking: “But not exactly. She saved me a few times, so I’m grateful for her. But I wouldn’t call us friends.”

“And that’s all?”

You wonder where all of this is coming from. Didn’t take her for the kind who enjoys bars and loud spaces anyway. Spending time with Jill is usually just the two of you watching TV, laughing at the over-the-top reality drama from the comfort of the couch, cuddling up right next to each other like a couple of platonic best friends. Before you can speak, you feel a presence in front of you, standing in your way. You pause quickly at the last minute, almost colliding into the figure. Ada. She only looks at Jill when she’s talking.

“You two lovebirds done? Stay alert.” Ada deadpans with no intention of being friendly and warming. “Don’t hold me down.”

“Take care of your shit and I’ll take care of mine.” There’s bitterness in Jill’s voice, and Ada ignores her because your watch is beeping. The green and red dots overlap each other. You’re here.

You put your game face on. You land yourself on the other side of the wooden door to Arias’ office, while Jill and Ada have their backs against the wall closest to the door knob. Ada signals, counting down from three, and then finally kicks down the door. The three of you rush in, guns aimed forward in order to take down any security patrolling the perimeters.

“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow. You lower your gun when realisation sets in that you are indeed in an empty room.

You recognise this dark wood flooring. It adorns proudly, and even more repetitively, throughout the mansion. This room is no different. The desk, cabinetry and shelves are crafted with the same sinister timber that weighs down Arias’ office. Rows of portraits from Arias’ ancestors stare down at you with hollow beady eyes. A tall window, slightly ajar, to let in the cold nocturne wind. No mould.

This room had been cared for—dusted, cleaned, and prepared. Papers spread across the table, fresh ink, even the nameplate is polished into a shimmer. Arias frequents here, either for work—or for other sorts of shady businesses.

Ada immediately gets to work, and she finds a painting with a secret hinge to the side. It opens into a safe with two rotary dials. The sample is so close now, so close to your reach.

“I’ll check for any other clues that may help us.” Jill declares, and she’s flipping through papers on the desk for any information she can send to Rebecca.

But your eyes are still fixed upon Ada with her back facing you. Not leaving her even for just a second. Ada might have saved you a few times, but the amount of times she betrayed you is far greater. A memory sticks out from a conversation in the saferoom when Leon pulls you aside:

“Be careful. Something is very wrong about this place. I don’t know what it is yet…” His words hold weight and sincerity as he speaks. “And about Ada… I don’t trust her. You shouldn’t too. Don’t make the same mistake as I did.” Then Leon loosens the grasp on your arm, and reluctantly lets go…

You refocus, keeping your eyes peeled on Ada, before noticing how beautiful her hands are. How they pinch the dial with ease and precision, almost gliding as she hears the very faint click inside the clockwork of the safe. Her nails are short, painted dearly with scarlet red polish, palms so silky that they almost glisten lightly under the moonlight. You didn’t know the hands of a mercenary can be so pretty, unlike yours, calloused and scabs healed over.

“Are you done watching me?” Ada is still listening to the safe, but she knows you’re looking.

“Huh? I wasn’t—” Your cheeks redden from being caught.

“You think I’m as dense as that rookie? I see you guys talking. Did Leon tell you to watch over me?” Oh. She must be talking about Leon’s warnings in the safe room.

“It… wasn’t about you.” You hesitate and fiddle with your thumb. You are not a great liar, not by far.

“Just tell me.”

Ada turns around to look at you now, telling of how much she knows you. And it’s definitely well enough to see through your lies like translucent paper. Your words tumble under pressure: “He’s just concerned. Told me to keep an eye out.”

Ada scoffs; she’s turning the dial a bit more aggressively this time. “Of course he did. Predictable. The rookie thinks I’m out to get him every single time.” There’s another sigh of exhaustion.

“Well, isn’t that what you did?”

“That’s besides the point. It’s his fault for getting in my way.” Ada clears her throat. “Rest assured, I’ve been compensated well for this job, so you’re safe.”

“For now. I’m not taking my eyes off you.”

“Didn’t take you for the kind to let others tell you what to do.”

You clamp your lips shut. She’s right, and you know it. Your brain racks within itself for a comeback to defend your integrity, and realising instead: Why are you trying so hard to prove yourself to Ada?

Ada is challenging you for sure. Or entertained by you. You can’t tell the difference with her teasing grin that could be either, or both. Are your eyes fooling you, or does Ada seem more... relaxed? Her demeanour is drastically different from when you were in the saferoom, or when you were speaking to Jill. If you didn't know better, you swear Ada actually enjoys your company, maybe even a little bit more than friends.

The safe beeps, signal flashes green, and the hinge loosens to an open. The two of you peek inside. There’s a gold bar. A stack of paper (letters?) bound by a delicate string. But beyond that, nothing.

You hear rustling in the background. Papers falling to the floor. You turn around to see Jill frozen.

“We got the safe open. Did you find anything?”

Jill’s eyes are far off, fixed upon a particular spot. You look towards the direction of her glance, and beyond the window, it overlooks the mansion’s luxurious home garden, overgrown with weeds and wilt. Behind that, a bench and what appears to be either a figure or the trick of a light. It’s too dark to tell.

“Jill.” Ada repeats, slightly raised eyebrows indicating suspicion. Jill returns from her far off location, and sees the two of you in front of her.

“You okay?” You ask, wanting to put your hand on her shoulder. She shrugs you off.

“I’m fine.” Jill’s fist is holding some paper, and she scrunches it to hide it in her back pocket. “Nothing useful. Just old accounts… and stuff. You know.” Ada is watching. Jill changes the topic fast.

“But look what I've found in the drawers.” Jill removes a box from inside the drawer and opens it. It contains a bunch of oddly shaped devices, attached by a belt or some sort.

“Are those what I think they are...?” You question, not quite sure what to make of it just yet.

“In every colour too.” Ada says. “Seems like a 'hobby' of Arias'.”

“Maybe Arias had been using this toy in this room.” Jill snickers, pulling one of them out by the belt, and the girth of the black shaft is thick and erected.

“Jill, stop playing with it.” Your face looks visually disturbed. “Oh my god, my pure and innocent mind...”

“Don't tell me you've never used one of these before?” Ada is grinning, as if you just asked a silly question.

“And you have?”

“Who hasn't?” Jill laughs too. Meanwhile, you are still standing, a look of confusion in your eyes. They look at you, and look between themselves, a synchronous 'oh' left their mouths at the same time. You are still confused.

“Don't worry about it. So what do you guys got there?”

You pick up the stack, and read aloud the first sheet that is addressed to someone.

Dear Sarah, The world had been too cruel to us, separating us from each other far too suddenly, far too soon. Our lives were only just beginning, and fate had to take you away from me. We should’ve had so much more time. And we will. Don’t worry, Sarah, all of this is only temporary. I took your wedding dress to the dry cleaners and safekept it for your return. I still remember how beautiful you looked in that dress walking down the aisle. Yours forever, Glenn

You bring the sheet back to read the next letter.

Dear Sarah, My research was successful. I did it, Sarah, I DID IT!! I can finally bring you home, my love. Didn’t we always said we wanted a child? You told me underneath the moonlight you want to name our daughter Renee. And now, we can finally have them. We can finally be together. Things are in order to make this happen. Me, you, and Renee, for eternity. I’m so excited I’ve painted Renee’s nursery in your favourite colour, green. So much work to do, I’ll write to you again soon, Sarah. You won’t have to wait any longer. Yours forever, Glenn

“Is this Arias’ wife? What do you mean ‘bringing her back’?” Your whole body shudders at the thought.

“She’s dead. One of the many innocents that died in the wedding.” Jill almost punches the wall. “It should’ve been him.”

“He’s trying to revive her? …And have children with the dead?”

“What kind of fucked up shit is he planning?” Jill is shocked, grossed, disgusted all at once on her face.

Meanwhile, Ada, calm and unreactive as ever, is rummaging through the safe again. “No sign of the sample—” Ada confirms, and she withdraws her hand holding a gold bar to transfer it into her gear’s pocket. “—another dead end.”

“Did you just steal something?” Jill is in disbelief.

“Mind your business.” Ada shoots back a glare at her.

“There’s something really fucked up going on in this mansion, and this is how you act? Have some sympathy for the dead, would ya?”

“It’s been dead for a while. Doesn’t matter what we do or what we say, they can’t hear it. All we can do is focus on the present.”

“Why you—” Jill stops midway, like she accidentally swallowed back her words down the wrong hole. Her head is throbbing, heart racing, body attacking her from all sides within. Her throat is closing up, and for a second, Jill can’t breathe. She falls; collapsing onto the table with a loud thump, barely supporting herself with her elbow. Jill coughs; there’s blood.

“Jill! Are you okay?” You cry out, running to her aid, your arm rounding across Jill’s shoulders. It feels cold. Dry. Like you’re touching the furless coat of a dead animal with no warmth left in them.

“I… nnh, I’m fine.” Her voice is straining, but there’s some breathing at least.

“Don’t be stubborn. The colour on your face is gone.” You dip your hand onto Jill’s forehead. The cold sensation fades, and now it’s warm to the touch again, burning like a fever. You question yourself whether the coldness before was an illusion. Bringing your arms around her, you reach to your earpiece. “I’m calling Rebecca.”

“No. Don’t.” She coughs even harder with her weight leaning against you; she’s turning frailer and frailer by the minute. “I’ll be fine. We need to s-stop Arias.”

That is when you hear a click, cold metallic surface pressing against the fabric of Jill’s back. The safety’s off.

“Ada?” Your voice escapes like a pleading squeal, a forced laugh through hopeful desperation that it’s all a prank, that Ada isn’t going to hurt and betray you, just like all the other times. “…What’s up with you?”

“Jill. Get off. Now.” Ada raises her volume to a stern demand, and this time, you know she’s definitely not joking. Jill ought to do as she says soon, or else both of you may catch the bullet with a press of Ada’s finger.

“Ada—” Your voice shrivels into a pitiful whisper. Betrayal again? After everything?

“Jill’s infected. Face it. Thought it was weird why you’re acting funny. The virus is in your body as we speak.” Ada points her gun at Jill.

“Wha—What’re you talking about?” Jill’s face turns white. She coughs once more, hard. There’s blood all over her hand and on the corner of her lips.

“Ada. We need to take her to the hospital now.”

“Does she look okay to you? I’m not going to save your ass again. So get out when I tell you to.” Ada’s finger is firm on the trigger. Determined.

Jill scoffs. “This again? So you’re working for Wesker? You’re trying to take us out one by one. It’s not gonna work.” With a weak grip, Jill grabs her pistol with her remaining energy to aim right back at Ada. Ada doesn’t shoot. She should’ve, but she can’t.

Ada’s guard is up again. “Believe what you want. If you’d like to die today, be my guest. I won’t hesitate to shoot.” She flicks her wrist, demanding you to move aside. “This is your last chance.”

“Ada, please listen! She wasn’t bit. We were together the entire time. You were there too, Ada! She can’t be infected. She can’t be—” You yell in distress, but your sentence trails off into a mumble.

“The gas. The gas has something to do with it.” Ada says.

“Won’t the two of us be sick too?” You say.

Ada’s eyes glare harshly against the two of you, but you can see her thinking, the cogwheels in her brain processing the facts, and her speculation wavers. There’s pity behind the cold blooded glint. Sympathy. Ada’s pistol lowers—

And that was the mistake that costs their lives. Jill turns, roundhouse kicking the pistol off Ada’s hand in her moment of vulnerability. The gun falls, crashing against the rug far from reach. Ada is already reacting, drawing her TMP out but Jill moves faster. Too steadfast. Too superhuman. She tackles Ada to the ground, hands steady against her neck.

Jill’s gaze is obscured by flames, something blinding and controlling from something within her veins and arteries. Despite looking directly at Ada, she can’t see, nor can she distinguish friend or foe. Her hand tightens around Ada’s windpipe, leaving her grasping for air.

You pull up your rifle in a panic frenzy, unloading your round onto Jill. But she does not flinch, does not even look your way. There’s a dent in her skin where your shots land, but there’s no blood. “Goddamit, what the fuck, Jill! What is wrong with you?”

But Jill can’t hear you. Only the crackle of flame and roar of wildfire burning and reverberating through her head. Echoing twice and thrice over. Ada is grunting soundless moans, still attempting at escape with how she continues to fumble for the TMP on her waist belt. Then, Jill steps on Ada’s hand with sheer force and unnatural strength, crushing the smooth palm with the sole of her feet, twisting it until all the delicate bones become unrecoverable. And all hope was lost again.

Jill sinks her teeth into Ada’s neck, not with much mercy either. There is a sound of flesh torn, a blood crying scream to taint the air. The blood velvet rug paints a deeper red and Jill releases. Ada flops to the floor, paralysed, but not deadly enough for a fatality. Her beautiful skin, once full of vigour and charm, stained red with her own blood, the veins around turning deeper purple thriving like tree roots across the earth.

You look at Jill—and she’s smiling. It’s not the slight curve of her lips you’re used to when you tell her that her haircut is nice. Or the reluctant embarrassed grin she has when you thank her for standing up for you. This was something else.

This was something from hell.

She’s no longer the Jill you know. ‘Jill’ turns around to meet you in the eye. You back away, rifle aiming forwards despite knowing it’s all fruitless. Your hands shudder from within, none of your shots will hit even if you try. But you had no choice. You have to try even if it’s fruitless. Then you aim at Jill directly on the head. It’s harder than it looks, killing your best friend, even if they are a zombie.

It misses and lands on her shoulder instead. There’s a notable grimace on Jill’s face as she flies to catch the bullet from within her shoulder. She flicks the bullet away and her grin spreads widely, and she chuckles a sinister giggle. “That hurts, you know…”

“Jill?” These BOWs aren’t supposed to speak. They should be monsters. This is your first time meeting one of these too, and you did not expect them to be one of your closest friends. You should be careful. If they can speak, do they have the intelligence to manipulate you too?

“What’s wrong, kitty?”

“Fuck you.” You grit your teeth. “I’m not turning into one of you.”

She merely laughs. “Admit it. You think this is hot.”

“Fuck off.” You have Jill’s eyes locked, other hand inching closer and closer to your back pocket, reaching for the radio. But it was no use. A hand—bloodied and broken—grabs you by your wrist, twisting it behind you forcefully. You wince. Ada is right behind you, her eyes looking into yours with the same blank stare Jill has. She’s turned. And so quick too?

“Our darling, can’t seem to stay put? I think it needs punishment.” Ada’s breath is blowing against your neck. You shiver.

“Oh… like what kind?” Jill’s eyebrows are raised and intrigued.

Jill answers the question herself by unsheathing her pocket knife. You swallow hard as she takes each purposeful step towards you, savouring in your fear. Your wrists struggle against Ada’s grip, which she responds by tightening it further that your bones are almost breaking from her touch.

“It’ll hurt more if you resist.” Jill drawls out her words, licking the surface of the knife. She brings her knife forward, laying the flat edge of the knife against your cheek, drawing a little blood at first, then a bit more droplets gather onto the knife. She slurps on it, licking the crimson nectar clean off her knife. “Just relax, kitty. It’s us. Jill and Ada. Your teammates.”

“We won’t hurt you, darling. You can trust us.”

For a moment, through the hazy blink of a spell, you see your friends. Ada, mysterious yet always saving you during trouble. Jill, indifferent yet is always the first to defend you. They’re absolutely right. These are your friends. They mean so much to you, and you’ve just realised that now. You’ll do anything for them.

You let your body relax, your eyes stare into Jill, then Ada, then back at Jill again. She caresses your cheeks in her palm, bringing your face closer to hers with lips that only want to close the distance, and you close your-

Wait! No. Stop this! This isn’t right!

-eyes, before your lips crash together in a series of tingles. Jill deepens the kiss, her tongue prying between the seams of your lips, meeting your own tongue in the middle. You still taste a bit of blood, but that doesn’t deter you from returning the kiss. Jill licks your lips once more before finally parting with a heaved gasp. You slowly open your eyes, before another pair of familiar lips comes colliding back on yours and you’re nudged to close them again. This is Ada’s lips, rounder, thicker, with an unexpected forwardness. She nibbles on your lips, demanding, making room between the gaps of your lips, and kiss you just as passionately as Jill did.

Between kisses, a button pops off. Then another. You help each other out of your fabrics. Earpieces removed, abandoned by the floor. Jill strips off Ada’s dress and bra, and you help Jill out of her skinny jeans. A paper scrunches up from her back pocket. It’s been torn by hand, scribbled a note on lined paper where the words are either smudged or peeled off. Only one word is still faintly visible.

[ WATER ]

What could it mean?

You spend no time to ponder with Jill pulling you back into the present. Your naked torsos flush against each other as the duo fight for another taste of your lips. They catch your breath, one after another, with no intention of letting you out of their sight. Jill brings her hand around you, her fingers are already sending-

I need to get out of here! I need to warn-

-a violent fizz through your body, and Ada helps you fall to your legs onto the velvet rug underneath you. All the whilst your lips are trapped in Jill’s, and so is your body.

“That’s it… Be our good little darling.” Ada slips right behind you, letting your relaxed body lean against her, then running a hand up your torso with the friction of her latex gloves, before settling against your neck in a firm grip.

“We’ll take care of you, kitty.” Jill whispers into your ear, and you can’t hear any malicious intent. Jill and Ada aren’t hurting you, some part of you is very sure about this.

Then you hear something. A faint sound in your mind, a warning, a scream from far away. It’s telling you to run, run so far and fast before it’s too late. “Nnh… I…” It rings in your ear like a constant drum, forcing you for a response. But why? You feel so good right now…

“Stay with us, darling.” Ada coos, moving downwards to kiss along the strip of your neck. She’s gentle, enchanting you in her lovingness. The voice grows fainter, like a distant chatter that fades into the background.

And their hands are all over you, exploring every curve your skin has to offer. The crook of your neck, the gentle folds between your belly, thighs filling out into their palms, plushness against plushness. With how both of their breasts lay against you, it reminds you of a marshmallow cloud, and you’re drifting away into it. Away from the mortal world where only the three of you remain.

Ada runs her hands down your body, her latex glove palming your cunt now, circling it fully and firmly. You feel everything move, your hips rutting to find more friction against your clit. And she retracts her hand, pressing down against your clit as if you hears your demands, holding you and your emotions hostage, before repeating all the motions again.

“Shh… We’ll take care of you, kitty.” Someone says this, you don’t know who. You are much too focused on the pleasure throbbing in your body to notice. Ada moves her head downwards to watch your cunt more closely, pleasant to see you already drenching, soon to succumb to the inflictions of her loving touches.

“Goodness, so wet for me, darling.” Ada rewards herself with a finger down the stripe of your cunt, scooping your juices with the latex and licking her finger clean. Ada is taking her time with you, pecking gentle kisses along the seam. A few times you feel the firm pad of her tongue on you, but she retracts it before you can truly react to it.

Jill is still kissing you; her hands are groping her own breasts to satisfy herself, while you lay limp under the command of the two. You moan back into the kiss, clearly aroused by Ada toying with your body underneath, and she grows increasingly jealous: “Having all the fun without me?” She abruptly parts your lips, and gently lowers your back onto the floor.

“Come on, kitty. Help me come too.” Jill pecks one final kiss on you, which you, too engrossed in the knot in your chest to struggle to even pucker your lips. She rounds her legs over your face, and your face is shaded with the shape of Jill’s cunt. Her arousal glistens in the darkness, seemingly twitch, maybe a bit vulnerable with how your eyes are fixed upon her aching parts.

“Put that tongue to good use, kitty.” Jill drops herself onto your face, fucking herself onto your nose. A moan escapes her lips, and yours too, your grunt muffled underneath the pressure, but she can still feel the vibrations through her cunt. She ruts against you, a signal for ‘more’, and you obey. You stick your tongue in, swirling and springing your tongue to feel Jill’s walls against the flat surface of your tongue.

Jill lifts herself temporarily, just enough for you to breathe and release the groaning mess that is trapped in the back of your throat. She slams herself back down onto you again. Your breath quickens, back arches in; you’re close. So fucking close. Ada isn’t stopping now, her lips are flushed against your cunt, extending her entire tongue inside of you to tonguefuck you until your heavy breathing is inside of Jill’s cunt.

“I.. nnh…fuck…” You cry, a tear gathering in your eye.

“Don’t be shy, kitty. Just let it all out.” Jill looks down at you, grinning, taunting. She drives her cunt deeper onto your face. And with her encouragement, you do. The sensation wells inside of you, stimulated on both end bringing your orgasm to escalate in speeds unimaginable. Your juices start to flow, without warning—you couldn’t control it even if you tried—and all your fluids spills directly onto Ada’s face, catching into her eyes.

“That’s it. Well done, kitty.” Jill praises, smoothing a hand over your hair.

Ada doesn’t wince from your juices in her eye, she doesn’t even feel the pain. Her irises are shifting red from her kind hazel brown. Her skin, paling, wherever she was applying pressure at you, those parts of her turns distinctly blue. And that’s when reality hits you: you don’t know them. But there’s no stopping now. It’s too late. At least you can make your death memorable—enjoyable—by getting fucked inside out.

Jill is feeling it too, her hips shaking, your tongue going into overtime eating her out, until she finally releases. She tries to lift herself off, but it was too late when Jill begins to squirt, her one finger guiding herself on her clit, drenching your face and some of your hair with her fluids. You wipe your face off with your hands, huffing and puffing. Whatever you two had, it was intense. Far more intense than any relationship you had with any other sex.

Ada lands right next to you on the rug. She’s reaching down to circle on her own clit and thrusting her fingers inside of her dripping mess at the same time. God, Ada looks so hot touching herself.

“Please. Ada. I want to taste you too.” You nudge Ada’s fingers out of herself, giving them a lick to clean those pretty, battered fingers off. Even damaged, her manicure is still perfect, and the skin still feels soft to the touch. You roll on top of Ada, exchanging places with Ada’s fingers to bottom her out.

Ada’s cunt is so smooth, cleaned and trimmed, just as put together as the rest of herself. Her hole is wide open, as if taunting you with how much she can take at one time. You hook her legs over your shoulder now, pressing them down closer to her body and reaching over to her swollen nipple to pull against it. When your fingers enter her, it’s like dipping your finger into melted butter. With one finger, it was loose. So you add one more finger, then another, until all four of your fingers are deep in her cunt.

“God, Ada.” You swallow back a heavy drool. “You’re all stretched out.”

“I have higher pain tolerance like this. That’s the best part about being a zombie.”

“Does that mean I can…” You thought four fingers was Ada’s limit, but after wiggling your hand around, you manage to slip the fifth finger inside. Ada lets out a delighted whine, swallowing your entire fist with a quick rut of her hips.

My god, Ada looks so beautiful like this. With how big she’s taking in, you swear that she’s more used to this than she’s letting on. But you don’t get to ponder long, because Jill is right behind you. She’s watching over you, grabbing your cheeks from behind and something is nudging between your thighs.

“I want to try something on you.” There is a belt around her, and a strap bouncing high and proud into the air. “Stick up your butt for me, kitty.”

The idea of getting fucked by Jill excites you very much. You perk them up, despite your eagerness, you don’t want to lose momentum with Ada in front of you, still squirming under your control. You expect your cunt to meet with Jill’s silicone tip, but instead she puts some kind of device inside of you. It vibrates in the lowest setting, only a tingle of sensation in your already aching and throbbing pussy.

“J-Jill?” You let out a low grunt, unsatisfied. The device is so small, you still feel empty even as it vibrates within you.

“Don’t worry, kitty. I’m just gonna write some thing on your body. It won’t hurt, I promise.” She picks up a knife, previously abandoned in the corner. She runs the sharp end of the knife along your ass cheeks, and you wince as Jill drags the knife down until it carves off a letter. ‘J’ on your left cheek, ‘A’ on your right cheek.

“Kitty looks amazing with our initials on it.” Blood is trailing along your butt. Jill lied. It hurts a lot. But the combination of pain on your skin and pleasure of the vibrator takes you to your wits end. Jill makes up for it by consoling the cuts, planting kisses and licking the blood off your cheeks. Then she grasps harshly onto the plush meat, and the pain is back again.

“Kitty…” She coos, fingering out some of your stickiness to lubricate the silicone. It lines up against you, ready for entry. You take in a deep breath, and Jill shoves all of her length in one go. Your body flinches, tongue stopping for a moment to recollect your composure as your internal walls fight to wrap both the vibrator and Jill’s strap at the same time, filling you up so fully.

“That’s it, kitty. Take in both me and the vibrator. Feel so good right now… So good for us.”

But she’s not stopping. Not intending to stop until you come over and over again, until you stain the rug with every bit of your juices. Moans ripple through the room. Each thrust heavy and welcoming to your pussy as you stretch wide to accommodate to this newfound size. You chase your euphoria, as it crash at you wave after wave of limitless pleasure. Jill tips you further into overstimulation, fucking the fluids of your orgasm back inside of you.

But you can’t speak, despite the desire to release your choked out breath, you are determined to make Ada come too. She’s close. You press her legs further down to flex her into a pretzel, her thighs touch her head, and your fist finds its easier to reach her cervix, abusing at her favourite spot over and over again until she’s bound to release her fluids onto your hand.

“You’re mine now…” Jill and Ada speaks almost simultaneously.

And the rest of the night was a blur. You aren’t sure how many times you came tonight, you only feel the aftermath of it. The inside of your walls are sore, penetrated repeatedly by tongue and silicone, and you find your consciousness fading… and fading… until you are gone completely.

A buzz. It rings in your ear like a fly in your sleep. Is this your alarm? No… Did you not leave for Arias’ mansion? How long ago was that? Why are you asleep? And where’s Jill and Ada?

You are alone. The portraits watching your naked body as you lie—criticising you? You hear the windows clacking against the hinges, night air whining inside and all over your bareness. But you don’t feel cold. Your body hasn’t felt anything in a while. Joints weakened everywhere and your lips feel like something dried over.

You hear the buzz again. This time much closer. There’s static. It’s saying something.

“Ji- Ad-”

You move your limbs, cumbersome from the soreness of your muscles, to reach to the sound underneath your clothes. An earpiece. You fumble it on.

“Jill! Ada! Are you guys there? Come on, why won’t this damn thing work?”

It’s Rebecca. You know this girl. From somewhere. It’s getting harder to think.

“Reb—” You try to talk, but it escapes like the low grumble of a zombie. You don’t have much time left.

“Finally! Thank god it’s you! Are you guys safe?”

“Water... It’s the water… The water’s infected…” You muster whatever bit of strength left to talk.

“Hello?? Shit. I can’t hear you… What did you say about the water?”

Your eyes feel heavy. It sinks without intention. All that remains is a fragile pulse at the hearth of your body. Not enough for you to move or think. Darkness envelops you, and there is silence once again in Arias’ office.

Then, a man steps into the room.

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. kissing @scar-crossedlvrs and @obsolescent for beta reading this!!!! tags: @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted @daydreamrot @madcap-riflette @access--granted @obsolescent @briermelli @secretiveauthor @ghosty-frog @navstuffs @slowcryinginthedark @rentaldarling @lesbntired @redvleanli @vinsiliors @whoisgami @gaylorvader @wxwieeee @eddsthemunson © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

[slaaverin]

I feel like we’ve collectively moved on too fast from ‘Are you Sure’?!. Maybe we’re too overwhelmed?

Just wondered what your favourite part was? What shocked you? And what you would have changed ?

Jikookers have always had a tendency to move on from absolutely everything at tremedous speed which baffles me. There are still moments from years ago that still shock me to this day. I think it's because we've always been spoiled rotten by jikook 😂

I'm actually glad to get your ask.

A favorite part is soooo hard to choose, but I think what I liked the most was seeing their general happiness in Sapporo. They were SO happy and SO excited and played in the snow like children, it was quite beautiful to see. It's the trip that meant the most to them and it showed. But I also liked the chaos of Connecticut 😂

I was shocked many times. First with this:

THIS MOMENT.

I was gobsmacked. A slap in my face. Because this statement right there is irrevocably romantic. You can't spin it any other way. There is no blurred lines. There is no alternative. There is no other reason his heart is fluttering. Jungkook right there confessed to the world he is in love with Jimin. AND PEOLPLE DISMISS IT LIKE IT NEVER HAPPENED. I'm????? People really see what they want to see. There, he said it. He said Jimin simply holding his shirt is evoking romantic feelings in him. He is attracted to Jimin. And he said it in a very calm collected tone like this is another tuesday. Like this is a known, accepted, normal fact that would not surprise Jimin. He's just informing him. But this is not shocking news. IT TELLS EVERYTHING WE NEED TO KNOW.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk but moving on:

This whole segment was very shocking to me, not because they were particularly close (they are a couple so it's expected) but I was shocked to see they did this in front of a whole group of staff sitting in front of them who would be wondering what the f is happening. To show this level of closeness to a bunch of people you need to have such a high level of trust in each other and in the relationship. They are comfortable enough to show physical closeness and not be bothered one bit with anyone watching them which in itself is very disconcerting because that is not usually the case even in normal people long-term relationships, at least not to this level

The simple "This is see-through" phrase from Jungkook to a Jimin with a devilish smile ready to do mischief was very shocking to me. What was he about to do that deserved this warning? The only explanation would be that Jimin was about to get too close to him physically in the pool. But why would he do this as friends? Friends playing around would not have warranted such a warning. Because no one would have even thought about anything in particular.

But JK needed to warn him anyway. Only reason? If they are a couple and Jimin was about to get *CLOSE* like couples do in the pool. Which he was about to do looking at his devious smile. He was about to do something at least. Something that could not pass as friendship otherwise Jungkook would have said nothing. Much to think about.

He blurted it. Like it just came out so naturally. Jungkook has no chill whatsoever. This man is flirting blatantly in front of the entire world. While Tae was there. How could beautiful clouds even compare to Jimin. Jungkook only sees Jimin and he doesn't care for anyone to know about it. It's just what it is. Jimin or nothing. Everybody else can go home. Thank you Jungkook.

Of course one of the most shocking:

I already made a quick post about it but this was...this was....I have no words to this day. Can you believe we saw this? THE LEVEL OF INTIMACY. THE QUIETNESS OF THE MOMENT. THE KNOWING.

They knew. We knew. No one said a word. We were all intruding. I was frozen and holding my breath, my mouth wide open with shock and my heart was beating in my chest and I had to pause afterwards because this was jawdropping.

And I've seen many people that did not get it. But with everything we know about jikook thus far, everything they have been through, the growth, the ever expanding love, this moment was incredibly special and in a way quite emotional to witness.

This is their normalcy. Sharing a bed and intimacy and physical and emotional closeness.

AND THEY LET US SEE IT? CAN YOU BELIEVE? THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE!

If you told me in 2018 we would witness this, I would not have believed you. This is beyond my wildest imagination. This is not even about the fucking butt-slap. It's the whole mood of the scene. It's the tenderness. I was on the floor.

I think this is the most shocking thing I've seen as a jikooker including MMA 2018.

This was shocking. Not the act itself. The shock was in the hesitancy of Jungkook. Of Jungkook allowing himself to share this tender moment with Jimin in a train full of people in Japan (of all places, where people don't show intimacy in public) but this moment was too important for Jungkook to pass it up and he almost didn't do it but then he thought fuck it and let himself go completely. What a beautiful and meaningful moment. How special and precious 💜😭

This was a really insane moment too. Jikook being tangled together god knows how in this car and Jungkook looking drunk on love showing off Jimin like a proud and posessive boyfriend. Just wow. I certainly didn't expect this but I can't say I'm not happy 🙊 They couldn't look more like a couple here

I'll finish with this picture that really shook me. Jimin's name on JK's chest. I don't know what else to say. If people wanted them to spell it out, well this is spelled out, literally. It's all here.

There were so many great moments and I feel we could talk about it for hours but I'm gonna wrap it up.

My last answer is probably gonna pin me as a hater but honestly I don't really care I know where I stand. What I would have changed to AYS would have been Tae not coming to Jeju. Look, I love Tae, I have no issues with Tae, and jikook were fine with it so this was fine, but I felt sometimes uncomfortable because I felt his presence was a bit misplaced, and you could feel it in jikook's behaviour too, so Jeju had a bit of an uneasy feeling to it. I think Tae didn't add anything more to the show. I would love to see more of Tae in any other setting, I love him in group settings in general, but I simply felt it was a bit of a wrong place wrong time situation. But I still enjoyed Jeju a lot it was just not my favorite.

Otherwise there would be nothing I would have changed to AYS. (Maybe Jimin not suffering this much? 😂)

Anyway thanks for your ask I had fun and take care anon 💜

[roguelioness]

I'm back with my tin foil hat on, spoilers beneath the cut-

So the two creatures rising up at the end of the gameplay trailer - I suspect it's Ghila'nain and Elgar'nan, and here's why I think so (this is just speculation!)

(I tried to get the best closeups I could!)

You can see the two beings rising up here:

The figure on the left is, i suspect, Ghila'nain

From The Horror of Hormak it's implied Ghila'nain had an interest in creatures with many limbs. the figure has several appendages in addition to the normal pair of arms.

It's interesting that the face is entirely hidden - or, at the very least, that mask is covering the eyes, because Ghila'nain's story involves losing them-

From the codex entry for Ghila'nain:

Ghilan'nain followed the hunter, and when they were away from all of her sisters, the hunter turned on Ghilan'nain. He blinded her first, and then bound her as one would bind a kill fresh from the hunt.

If she doesn't have eyes, it makes sense that she would cover them up. There's also her mosaic from the Temple of Mythal that could be taken as extra appendages:

(granted the mosaic in its entirety had those as part of halla horns, but... why are they covered in the same material as the face?) I think - going off of HoH - she was at one point Andruil's priestess, and at some point of time (perhaps when Andruil went hunting into the void) discovered the weird green lyrium which she then used to conduct her terrifying experiments. And because of that ability, she was granted ascension. Whether or not she transformed herself into that creature pre- or post-ascension is something I hope we'll learn (was it done deliberately? or was it a side effect? so many questions!)

Now my reasoning for this being Elgar'nan is a bit shakier; the first thing that made me go hmmm was a line from the Dragon Age Day trailer:

"All the world will soon share the peace and comfort of my reign."

That to me reads like Head-of-the-Pantheon kind of speech (I told you my reasoning was shaky lol)

But the other thing that has my raising my eyebrows is, well, Flemythal. The Chasind know Flemeth as Mother of Vengeance, and Elgar'nan is considered to be the god of vengeance (and Mythal's husband). Flemeth's speech about Mythal - "she was betrayed, as I was betrayed, as the world was betrayed" I thought referred to the veil's creation, but I'm beginning to wonder if it was a reference to Elgarn'an, seeing as he (along with Mythal) were supposed to have remade the world (from the codex entry for Mythal). If Elgar'nan took part in her murder, it could be seen as him (metaphorically) betraying the world. The other thing that caught my eye was his mosaic from Temple of Mythal:

The figure in the mosaic has two curves going outward from the shoulder region, which matches the armor the figure in the trailer is wearing. Granted this could mean nothing, seeing as how Flemeth's attire (specifically her hair) more resembles the mosaic for Mythal's dragon form than Mythal herself, but considering none of the other mosaics had anything similar to this makes me think Elgar'nan is the likeliest candidate.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my ted talk :D

[intrusive-thought-library]

After many, many years of not having played any Fire Emblem, I asked my friend to recommend me a game to start with, and he recommended me Fates. I have been playing it for the past few days on the holiday and safe to say, I'm hooked xD absolutely obsessed with unlocking support events more than progressing the story AHDFKAJHFAK

I am still early in the game so no spoilers, please!

Anyway, as a humble shipper and inhaler of character interactions, I love plenty of the friendship/etc dynamics I've seen so far. Orochi is currently my favorite, she has such a wonderful fun auntie vibe,,, her playful personality is delightful and I am obsessed.

I shipped her pretty hard with Silas at first because I unlocked their support story first (he is another big favorite of mine), and I was pretty sure I was going to marry them until,,, well. Until I unlocked her support stories with Kaze and fell head over heels with their dynamic.

So far, as far as romantic synergy goes, they definitely take the cake for me and I,,, well, I couldn't resist and married them right away KJAHGFKAJGJKA

i havent even unlocked all of the units yet 😭 they were simply too perfect for each other, dont look at me. Anyway, because of my luck, i found out they are apparently one of the rarepairs in the franchise and have,,,, no ship art, no fics, no nothing. NOTHING!!

So I have hereby claimed myself as ceo of Karochi and am going to start my own kingdom //silly

I have more stuff cooking as far as fanart goes, stay tuned for more gay rambling in the (hopefully near) future.

That's it, thanks for coming to my ted talk xD

[benedictscanvas]

pick me up at seven - roy kent x reader

pairing: roy kent x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k (they won't all be this long i don't think!!)

warnings: language of course, and this is a little steamy but with no actual smut. my favourite genre HA

request: I can’t find any good Roy fics until your recent one and I’m dying for more 😭 Anyway you could write something else for him? Maybe they’re at a bar and he gets pissed when he sees Jamie flirting w her? (Not a pre established relationship) - @kashee-h

a/n: your wish is my demand!! i'm so happy you enjoyed the first roy fic of what i hope are many to come. this one totally got away from me, i loved writing it so so much, thanks for a request that I really got to make my own! <3

---

Roy is the one who’s invited you here. Roy is the one who trekked over to your office at the end of the working day and told you that everyone was going out that evening. Roy is the one who suggested you come, even when you seemed reluctant to join in on what appeared to be an evening for just the players and the coaches. Roy is the one who convinced you that it would be fun, that he’d make sure of it.

All of this is making it very hard for Roy to accept that you are currently sat in a corner booth with someone else. The fact that the person you seemed to be having such an in depth conversation with was Jamie fucking Tartt was the icing on a very shit cake.

He knew he could be having a better night than just sitting on a barstool trying not to watch the two of you, especially when Ted and Beard arrived to get the next round and he didn’t even acknowledge them. They’d hired out a private room, so it was filled with people he generally tolerated the company, some he’d even go as far as to say that he liked. None of that was registering, however. 

Jamie leans in when you can’t hear something he’s said and he watches you nod solemnly, duck your head to stare at the floor as if flustered, and he wants to walk right out that door and never come back. Maybe he could get a job at Chelsea, or something.

“Now, what’s wrong, Jeremy Strong?” Ted asks, and Roy has to bite back a ‘fuck off’ so hard he wonders if his lip is bleeding, “You look just about ready to start wreckin’ the place.”

Out of the corner of Roy’s eye, he sees Beard lean in to whisper in Ted’s ear and points over at you. Ted looks surprised. Roy does not want to deal with this.

“You’re telling’ me our very own Mr Kent has his eyes on our very own Miss Y/L/N? Well, that’s just great! She’s sweet as anythin’, good for you, Roy.”

“She’s sweet on Jamie fucking Tartt, more like,” he says, even though he knows he’s being so fucking unfair. He hates it about himself. He knows how hard he’s worked on these feelings, on frustration and anger and jealousy, knows that a few years ago he’d be getting ready to fight Jamie down an alley further through tonight. Now he’s done that work, however, he can recognise the overriding feeling that he’s actually just hurt and that’s so much worse. It’s much easier to be jealous than upset.

“Does this call for an impromptu meeting of the Diamond Dogs?” Ted asks brightly and Roy is only able to stop him after his second howl. Higgins has looked over briefly but Beard signals him to stay where he is.

“Fuck no,” Roy blurts out, then reconsiders. Maybe he could at least talk to Ted, “I just- I was going to tell her. Tonight.”

“Tell her what?” Ted’s doing that thing where he bats his eyelashes like he’s in some sort of rom-com. Beard’s got his head resting in his hand, looking similarly up at Roy. They’re insufferable. 

“That I fucking like her, okay? Take those fucking looks off your faces.”

Ted and Beard scramble to look normal but come up short. Ted’s got the awful kind of shit-eating grin on his face that he gets when he sees Sam and Jamie hugging or watches Isaac doing his handshakes with everyone before a game.

“So, you’ve been spending time together? Or are you telling her out of the blue?” Beard pipes up.

Roy thinks that over. You’ve been spending a lot of time together actually. More than anyone at the club would probably even believe. He slips away to your office to eat lunch under the guise of needing a break from the American Circus downstairs. You text him when you’ve brought in ice cream because you know he’ll never say no to ice cream. You’ve met Phoebe. That one was by accident in the park, but you stuck around for four fucking hours and nobody made you.

Still, he wonders whether it would be completely shocking to you or whether you’ve been waiting for him to make a proper move. You’re incredibly difficult to read alongside being so stupidly pretty that sometimes he wants to swear less around you. He doesn’t manage it, of course, but he thinks it.

“Yes, we’ve spent time together. No, I don’t know what that means. Probably doesn’t mean shit to her, not that it would be her fault if she doesn't.”

Ted and Beard tilt their heads simultaneously at him and he wishes he could bash their heads together for a moment.

“But it means somethin’ to you, hey coach? I don’t think Miss Y/N sittin’ with Jamie should stop you from tellin' her how you feel about ‘er, hey coach?”

Roy’s lost track of which coach Ted is even talking to, but Beard chimes in.

“Surely her spending time with Jamie should be all the more incentive to tell her. Find out how she feels. Get that crushing disappointment out of the way now. It’s only downhill from here.”

Roy raises a brow at him as Ted gives him a look. Beard sighs, then picks up his drink and seems to disappear. Ted leans into Roy.

“Him and Jane are on a break again, I’m sorry. Look I’m goin’ to have to go find him but he was right, until he wasn’t. Go get ‘er, Ross Gellar!”

And with that, Ted’s gone too, weaving his way through crowds of people until he’s lost to them. When Roy glances back in your direction, Jamie’s got Colin and Isaac beside him instead and you’re nowhere to be found. He sighs and stands from his barstool, making his way to the exit. Maybe he’d think about what Ted and Beard had said tomorrow: for now, he just wanted to go home.

Except for the fact that when he finally managed to push his way outside to breathe in some fresh air, he found you. Leaning against the wall of the club, with definite tears in your eyes, even under the dim street lamp light. He was going to murder Jamie Tartt, slowly, with rope and paint and suffering involved.

But he knew to take a slightly softer approach with you. If at all possible.

“Hey,” he says quietly, trying not to startle you. You're quick to look up at him, startled anyway, and he grits his teeth as he asks, “Are you alright?”

He doesn’t make any comment about what the fuck Jamie had done to you. Doesn’t think it would be received all that well. Again, he’s biting the inside of his lip harder than ever.

“Yes! Oh god, yes, sorry,” you’re blinking furiously. He admires your resolve when the nearly teary face is quickly replaced by that bright smile that makes him weaker in the knees than he already is, “Fuck, sorry. I’m all good. I’m not sure this is my scene, I was just going to call a taxi.”

There’s an opening. He’ll be damned if he’s not taking it, even though confessing anything is the furthest idea from his mind - he’s much more focused on making sure you’re okay and nobody’s done anything to hurt you. If they have, he's already resigned to a short stint in jail if necessary.

“Do you want to walk?”

“Uh, I mean not really. It’s quite late, so…”

“With me, I mean,” he quickly clarified, wanting to bash his head against the brick wall, “I could walk you home, if you wanted. Or not. That’s fine too.”

“Oh, right,” you’re looking down at your feet as you contemplate it, “That would be nice, if you’re sure. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he insists, falling into step beside you as you begin to walk. He wants to give you his jacket and maybe his shirt too with the way you’re shivering, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He’s a fucking coward, but he will get to the bottom of what’s the matter if its the last thing he does, “You gonna tell me what’s wrong now?”

You huff out a frustrated sigh, at him, at yourself, he isn’t sure.

“I made a fucking fool of myself tonight,” you say eventually, and he can’t even imagine you doing that, “I thought…god, it doesn’t matter what I thought. Everything just feels worse when its…1:30 in the morning, don’t you think?”

You’d lifted his hand to check his watch before you said the time. Again, he wanted to hold on, but he let you drop his hand and it just went limp.

“It fucking does, yeah. Don’t think you could make a fucking fool of yourself if you tried though. Not around us lot.”

Your family, he heard Ted’s voice in his head. He was not fucking saying that. To his surprise, you let out a loud bark of a laugh at his words and he was staring at the side of your face as you spoke out into the dark air.

“I thought you were coming to pick me up tonight, you know?” you began, and his heart drops to his shoes. You’re upset about him?

“What?”

“Something you said earlier, when you asked me to come. You asked where I lived, then told me it would be a twenty minute walk to get there. Then you said ‘see you at seven’.”

He could have stopped walking. He had said that, but he was just trying to help you plan out your timings for the evening - you’d mentioned to him once that you were known for having some time blindness when you were getting ready for things. Of course he should have realised how fucking stupid that was, how much that sounded like he would come and walk with you.

He would have fucking loved to walk with you.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, far too loudly for the quiet night that surrounded you. You carried on undeterred, shaking your head. He could see your frustration was at yourself now, and he hated himself even more than he had earlier.

“My fault for assuming, I know. But that’s why I was so late. And when I arrived, trying talk myself into not feeling like a twat, you were already over with Dani and Isaac and Bumbercatch, clearly never intending to come pick me up. Which, why would you, of course. I just…felt shit. Jamie tried to help, bless him, but I just wanted to go home, honestly.”

Roy is the biggest idiot on the planet. He wants to go back into the club and hug Jamie for looking after you, then ask him to punch him in the face. Roy could punch something, anything right now, but he just grits his teeth.

“I’m-” he grunts when his voice comes out all strangled, “I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N. I’m the fucking twat. I was asking where you lived and that to help you with that fucking time blindness thing you told me about. Should’ve known how it sounded though. Fucking idiot.”

He directed the last comment at himself, kicking a stone he’d found on the pavement. He kept his eyes firmly trained on his shoes as the two of you continued walking, now at a significantly slower pace. Your eyes were burning a hole in the side of his face.

There was a silence that stretched on as you stared at him, until-

“Fucking hell,” you groaned, “That’s so fucking sweet. You’re the worst.”

He doesn’t know if he can remember being called sweet before. Phoebe was often excessively complimentary of him in a way that made him uncomfortable, but sweet had never come up. He didn’t feel sweet.

“I am the worst,” he grunted, spiralling, “Making you feel so shit. Ruining your fucking night. I was the one who convinced you in the first place and now you’ve had a shit fucking time and I’m the worst.”

He’s a little out of breath and loud again by the end of his rant. The two of you have stopped walking. You kick the toe of your heel against his shoe, placating.

“No, you’re the worst ‘cause you keep giving me all this hope. I fucking hate hope, no matter what Ted says,” you chuckle to yourself, and he’s not sure what you’re saying but he’s peering into your now smiling expression as he tries to work it out, “Look, do you like me or not? You’re a good guy Roy and either way, I’m grateful that you’re walking me home. I just think if I ask, maybe I can just feel like a twat for the night and get it over with by tomorrow.”

“Do I…like you?”

He sounds thick. He feels thick. Feels like his mouth is full of honey that his tongue is having to wade through to even speak to you. It’s stuck to the bottom of his mouth, heavy.

“Yeah. As in, do you just enjoy eating lunch with me or do you ever look at me and just want to kiss me? Cause I do that all the fucking time, Roy, but I can’t be arsed to dance around it anymore.”

You look really tired as you stare up at him, but he feels more energised than ever. You’ve both just established that he’s the absolute worst, and yet here he is, with everything he could’ve wanted right in front of him. You, looking fucking gorgeous and looking at him like that? Even getting a job at Chelsea wouldn’t help him against you - he was gone.

There’s a smirk on his face that he can’t bite back as he takes your face in both his hands and revels in the gasp he can pull from you. He should have known you’d be the first to say something. You weren’t the coward he was.

“Let’s not fuck about then, yeah?”

Low and breathy. You respond with a nod so eager that he’s practically grinning when he pulls you in. It’s quickly replaced by a hunger he’s been keeping at bay, allowing his hands to slide into your hair as he deepens the kiss almost as soon as it’s started. He can feel your hands clutching at the lapels on his jacket, but he’s more excited when you throw your arms around his neck instead, tugging on the hair at the base of his head.

He growls and you actually whimper. It’s like he’s been set on fucking fire. Like he’s been struck by lightning.

When he pulls away for air, you stay close, peppering kisses along the scruff of his jaw, up the side of his face and back down again. He holds you to him tightly around your waist and feels wanted. He’s wanted you for so long, but to be wanted in return, so openly, it’s both hot and meaningful. He’s not sure anyone’s ever told him they liked him before. Most models he’d dated were pretty sold on the idea that he had to make all the moves.

Still, when you begin trailing kisses down his neck and there’s a hand on the top button of his shirt, he has enough sense about him to stop you. Even if he really doesn’t want to.

“I don’t know what street this is,” he breathes out, low voice little more than a rumble, “But maybe we don't give your neighbours a fucking show.”

You look thoroughly kissed when you look back at him, but he doesn’t think it’ll ever be enough. He leans in to kiss you once more to punctuate his sentence, watching as you duck your head, all shy, even though your arms are still around him. He knows now that when you ducked your head with Jamie, you were embarrassed. This is you properly flustered and it’s one of his favourite looks on you.

“Good call, yeah. Okay. I’m- I’m just around this corner, I think.”

“You think?”

“Shut up, you,” you whack him lightly on the shoulder, as the two of you resume walking, “Think you can make it all the way there?”

“I’d carry you if my knee wasn’t fucked,” he admits, watching you with a lopsided smile, “Really fucking like you, by the way. If that wasn’t proof. Thought you should hear me fucking say it.”

You close your eyes in a little half laugh - giddy, he thinks. 

“Well, I did wonder. We’ve spent a lot of time together the last few weeks for someone who doesn’t like spending time with people.”

“Your first clue,” he agrees, taking your hand with pride now as the two of you keep walking, turning the corner towards your house. The pace is a lot quicker than it was before. He hopes he knows why, “I’ll be less of a fucking idiot now. Promise.”

“Eh, don’t worry,” you shrug, letting go of his hand only to thread your arm through his and take hold of his hand again, even tighter, “Nothing sexier than fucking idiots. I like my men with no thoughts behind their eyes.”

He properly laughs at that, head tilted back, feeling your head against his arm as you laugh with him. You slow down, gesturing left. Your house. The two of you walk down the drive until you’re at the door, face to face again and Roy is having a small internal battle.

“Look, I know you said no show for the neighbours,” you begin, almost nervously, “But does that mean a…private show is totally off the table too?”

He watches you picking at your nails. Can’t help it. He pulls you in for another breathless kiss, just to watch you come alive again, confident and fucking into him, however much of a miracle it seems. You pull away this time, clearly keen for an answer, but he groans.

“Tryin’ to be a fucking gentleman, here. Why don’t we do dinner tomorrow? Proper date. And I’ll fucking pick you up.”

You giggle. Still, there’s a glint in your eyes, as you sigh melodramatically.

“That does sound nice. Only thing is, there could be an intruder in here, you know? So, and I’ll only ask once more and then I promise I’ll let you go if you say no, but maybe you should walk me to my bedroom? To make sure I’m safe, you know? And then you can pay for my breakfast in the morning like a good old fashioned gentleman, if you want.”

You’re looking up at him, all hopeful again. His resolve is dwindling. You spin your keys around one finger and its a simple gesture, but it’s the final straw.

“I’m paying for your fucking lunch too,” he growls, diving into you once again. He’s beside himself when he hears you mutter a faint ‘thank fuck’ as you fumble to unlock the door and all but drag him inside.

---

if you've read this far, i fucking love you, you beautiful sunflower <3 requests open for this angry man and his favourite jamie tartt if you're interested!!

[its-time-to-write]

in love with an idea

This is a very, very, v e r y minor study in the way that Jamie handles his sexuality, and the fact that sometimes it seems he thinks his only value comes from being sexy and playing football. And the fact that sometimes, one night stands are crap even if they feel good. It happens. Especially if you go home with someone wishing they were someone else. Anyway, I have another fic in the works, should be posted soon. I’ve been absent because I’m writing a long one that will never ever see the light of day because it is way too self indulgent. As if this next one isn’t going to be long and self indulgent as well. Thanks to all y’all who support my writing!! Those of you who leave comments/tags have my whole entire heart, and there is no such thing as too many comments. Special shoutout to @whimsical-roasting and @qquell bc you’re probably my biggest/most vocal supporters and I love you🥺🥺 Ok that’s enough words, enjoy the fic!

in love with an idea

Jamie feels like shit which is weird, because he doesn’t usually feel this way after hookups. He can tell you don’t notice because you just plop down on the locker room bench next to him and ask, “Did ya call your mum yet?” while grinning far too brightly. 

Jamie is going to throw up. You’re smiling at him and he’s going to throw up so he gets up and rushes out of the room without a word. He pretends that he left so fast that he didn’t see your grin fade. 

He’s headed to the pitch because that’s where he’s supposed to be anyway, but all he can think about is the fact that it should have been you in his bed last night. After all, it was your name that had been on the tip of his tongue all night. It was your face he kept thinking of, and your body he was imagining. 

The girl had left satisfied, knowing exactly what she had signed up for, but he still feels like he used her. It’s not her fault that he’s in love with you but took her home, and yet it feels bad anyway. He wonders why no one ever talks about the shitty side of one-night stands. He has a vague recollection of Roy saying something to that effect one time, but other than that, he’s in completely unfamiliar territory.

He throws himself into training with more vigor than usual, purposely running himself ragged. 

Meanwhile, you’re still on the bench looking stupefied. Isaac slides next to you in the spot Jamie vacated. 

He says, “You should probably check on him,” with his usual solemn gravitas so you nod and decide to do just that.

—

You don’t have time check on Jamie until after training. Ted has you running all around Nelson Road so you just barely catch Jamie in the parking lot. 

“Hey!” you call. “You alright?”

Jamie spins around, icon hat atop damp hair. “Yeah, sure, good, yeah!” he says, and now you’re absolutely positive that something’s wrong. You raise an eyebrow. 

“That totally sounds like something a completely alright person would say, but for some reason I don’t believe you. Is something wrong with your mum? Is that why you got all weird when I asked?”

“What?” Jamie says. “Oh. No. She’s good, yeah. She’s good. I did call her. Talked for a while, which was nice. Talked about this girl I like, actually.” 

The words are barely out of his mouth when Jamie wishes he could sink into the ground. Fuck his stupid rambling. 

“Oh?” you say, eyebrow still quirked. “That’s new.”

Jamie shrugs. “Yeah, it is,” he says and then his mouth betrays him once again as he continues, “I’m actually really nervous about talking to her.”

You laugh. That is utterly ridiculous, and you tell him so. “You’re Jamie fucking Tartt, Premier League footballer. People throw themselves at you every day and you eat all that attention up. Why is she so different? Hold on, are you blushing?” 

You laugh. He totally is, but he denies it. 

“Look,” he says. “She ain’t like a lot of people. She’s fucking…smart or some shit. Not that other people aren’t!” he continues, “But she’s just… different, like. She’s one of fucking… four people who are immune to my natural sexy glow.” 

The way Jamie says the word sexy is always interesting because he never used it comedically. It’s always inserted in some serious declaration of himself, as if that and football are the only points of value he believes he has. You wrinkle your nose. “How is that possible? No one is immune. Except maybe Roy. I heard he got his anti-Tartt vaccine boosted last week. Maybe it worked a little too well,” you say worriedly. 

“I dunno,” Jamie says. “She said she’s looking for someone smart and I don’t really think I fall in that category. All brawn on me, innit?”

He quirks a smile to mask this strange discomfort he has. You’re not used to seeing him anything less than confident. 

“Well Jaim,” you say after a beat, “as someone who is also looking for someone ‘smart,’ it really isn’t about IQ. It’s like… it’s like someone who actually talks to you and has interesting things to say. And is interested in learning, not just from me but from whoever and whatever. And someone who doesn’t talk down. Because, god,” you laugh, “I’ve been on so many dates that are just exhausting because all these smart people want to flex their knowledge instead of sharing it. It’s like a fucked-up power struggle. I never feel that way with you, y’know?”

Jamie tilts his head in a cocky go on type of way. 

There he is. 

You roll your eyes. “What I mean is, you actually listen to what I say and ask questions, and aren’t rude when I don’t understand something that comes easy to you. My corner kicks are getting better, by the way,” you interject. “Sunday evening practice is paying off.” Jamie comes over every Sunday evening to kick a ball around with you on the Richmond Green.

“Of course they are,” he grins. “Learning from the best, aren’t you?” You flip his hat off his head and catch it, returning his smile. 

“Just ask her out, Jaim. I’m sure it’ll be fine. And,” you add, “bring her round! Not enough footballer girlfriends around here.”

Jamie looks at you a moment, taking in the picture of you in Nelson Road’s parking lot, his cap on you head and a smile on your face that he made. 

“Right,” he says, then turns to walk to his car. He’s at the door when he turns and walks back. 

“Forgot something,” he says to your bemused expression. You point to his hat still on your head. 

“Nope,” he shakes his head. “That ain’t it. It’s you. You’re the girl. I talked to me mum about you because I think you’re fucking great. If I’m not your type, that’s alright, but fuck it, I just really fucking like you.”

He takes a step closer. “I’m going to kiss you, so now’s your chance to walk away.”

You don’t. 

You let him flip the icon hat backwards and cup your face in his hands, far more gently than you thought him capable of as he tips your head up to his. 

His lips are soft on yours, and you’re vaguely aware of the fact that Trent Crimm is walking by you, shooting furtive looks your way but you don’t care. 

“I think you’re fucking great too,” you reply when you finally come up for air. 

Jamie grins. “Wanna go on a proper date tonight? Been thinking about where I’d take you for ages. I can pick you up in an hour thirty.”

You smile. 

That sounds great. 

[aquariumgraveleater1205]

Gregstophe is technically canon and here's why:

Ok so Christophe and Gregory are based on the characters Enjolras(Gregory) and Grantaire (Christophe) from "les miserables"

Ok now you're probably thinking "ok cool fact but what does this have to do with them being together?"

THE FACT IS THAT GRANTAIRE WAS DEEPLY IN LOVE WITH ENJOLRAS IN THE MOVIE AND NOVEL TECHNICALLY MAKING CHRISTOPHE DEEPLY IN LOVE WITH GREGORY SINCE THEY WERE BASED ON THEM

HELL EVEN THE ACTORS WHO PLAYED ENJOLRAS AND GRANTAIRE ARE LITERALLY MARRIED IN REAL FUCKING LIFE

(I'm so happy for them SKSKS)

BUT ANYWAYS this sparks up a new theory for me *throat clearing sound*

WHAT IF Gregory and Christophe WERE dating but they had a fight and broke up (you know like how 10 years olds break up every time they get into small fight and then get back together like two days later I like to imagine there were like that for a while until they got older) and as attempt to make Christophe jealous so they would become boyfriends again...he started "dating" wendy which would explain why he didn't put a giant fight when she left him for stan and omfg then after finding out Christophe temporarily died due to being fatally attacked by dogs they had a big ass fight about Gregory not being there but it ended with them getting back together and promising eachother not to break up anymore......,....and then they get married just like Enjolras and Grantaire ahbswhwhd

OH and fun fact: The song "la Resistance" from South Park: B.L.U.C. is a parody of "one day more" from les miserables

Ok but anyways thanks for coming to my Ted talk good bye and have a wonderful day 👋

I love these two so much 🟩🟧

[jamiesfootball]

Today on the wheelodex of things I'd like to discuss regarding Mom City / the Finale-

It's fucking weird that Ted's mom didn't come to the match. I also understand it completely.

(And I don't just mean writing weird, although I do think the decision was in part made so that they wouldn't have to spend a whole character-centric episode's B-plot revolve around introducing a new character around. Which is another complaint on the overall pacing of s3, but i digress)

But I'm talking about the 'meeting someone's mom is like getting a manual on why they're nuts' of it all. Ted's mom:

Flew in from the states, without letting Ted know she was coming

Proceeded to stay at a hostel for a week, hanging around 'near' his place for ??? amount of time until he happened to walk past her

Did the 'oh no, I couldn't' dance with him regarding staying with him (conceded)

Did the 'oh no, I couldn't' dance with him regarding going to work with him (conceded)

Did the 'oh no, I couldn't' dance with him regarding going up to Manchester -- and was left back at his flat.

Like. Holy fucking shit. That was all in the span of like 1-2 days.*

This is what Ted grew up with. Someone who constantly refuses to outright ask for anything or confront anything without making it an exercise for the other person. She's so passive aggressive that makes Ted seem like a direct person in comparison.

But what's interesting to me is that when it came to coming to the match in Manchester, that's the one where Ted folded in the towel and went 'yeah just stay here then'. Because that is the antithesis of Midwestern hospitality, isn't it? To leave your guest--your mom--back at home while she's visiting while you go off and do something else, something interesting, for a long stretch of time. It certainly makes my learned southern hospitality shudder in social faux pas. That's just not done. It's rude. Ted does it anyways.

With passive aggression, it's about what's not said--not what is. Both parties tend to know that the person being passive aggressive actually wants the opposite thing. The 'polite' way to tell them 'no' is to pretend you accept what they're saying. Ted's insistence that she tag along is noticeably weaker than when he's telling her to take his bed or come to work with him. It's not that her counter-arguments are any better; it's that he does the courtesy dance in a way that gets him out of the situation by giving her what she's asking for.

So Ted, Ted, does something people could consider rude. Because the alternative is doing this goddamn song-and-dance with his mother again. And I think that's fascinating. Not just from a character perspective, but for how it shows Ted's priorities in that moment. He says it backwards, he says it in an absence, but it's implied all the same, I don't want you there.

His team is facing off against their white-whale. They've been chasing Pep's team and his strategy, and now they're going head to head. If his mom came to the match, he'd be focused on her. On making sure she was taken care of. He doesn't want that.

For him, that's about as close as we ever get to him saying that he wants something (that has nothing to do with Henry.)

Of course then, just like Jamie's dad hovers over him even when he's not there, Ted's mom follows him to Manchester in his head. When Ted talks to Jamie, he's got one foot back in his kitchen at home. He's there, but he's not there. He's talking to Jamie, but he's talking to himself.

And it makes me wonder how often this was the case--how often did he throw in the towel and give her what she asked for because he just couldn't take being the one who had to handle all the decisions. It's a backwards negotiation, making his mother show up for him. She does love him, but god you can see how much strain reassuring her that he loves her too takes.

If I may be so bold, I think Ted also deserved to say 'fuck you' to his mom without attaching a 'thank you'.

*(SIDE COMPLAINT - The timeline of Mom City expands and contracts to fill the narrative space as needed, and it was goddamn infuriating to write about just tell me when things happen damnit)

[mrcarmenile]

real quick thing about blake roman and michael kovach since i know there’s a lot of discourse about it

michael kovach was angel dust at some point in time. by some point in time i mean literally four years ago. he’s now thriving in his other projects and he’s doing an amazing fucking job.

michael’s version of angel dust’s voice was amazing, as was it iconic. but believe it or not, angel dust was not made for michael kovach. michael just had his own interpretation of a pre-existing character.

and now we have blake roman, who also has HIS own interpretation of angel dust. he doesn’t sound exactly like michael kovach, and while he sounds SIMILAR, it doesn’t quite sound like an “impression” - i listen to blake roman’s songs on soundcloud frequently and he definitely has the ability to make that michael kovach-y sound, but he didn’t. he made his own version without straying too far from the pilot’s angel dust, and vivziepop has made it clear that blake’s version of AD really resonates with her.

am i saying blake roman is a better angel dust? no. am i saying that michael kovach is a better angel dust? no. i am saying that both of them have SIMILAR versions of angel dust, one that you might like more and might like less and might feel neutral about. there is no objective “better”, but please respect the decisions that vivziepop (and her team) made for her own show and own characters. no one knows more about her characters than vivziepop, and it all comes down to how she personally sees her own character.

plus, vivziepop stated in an interview that she felt professional singing talent was essential for the main cast, considering the difficulty level that some of the songs would have. not to say michael kovach isn’t insanely talented at voice acting and singing - but blake roman is very experienced in theater and singing and music all-around. plus, like i briefly touched on a moment ago, vivziepop felt a connection with blake’s version of angel dust.

neither blake roman nor michael kovach deserve to be shitted on or compared for the change. yes their voices are different, and yes they’re both great. same thing goes for Addict and Poison - both are great, and two great things can exist at the same time. sure, have your own opinions, but don’t put someone/something else down just because you like a different thing better.

once again, michael has moved on to other projects. we can focus on how fucking well he did on those, as well as appreciating his past work as angel dust - as long as we acknowledge that that work is over.

TL;DR - you can have RESPECTFUL opinions, but don’t shit on blake roman or michael kovach. both of their takes on angel dust are great. yes they are similar, but they are DIFFERENT. they can both exist as two separate, wonderful things. and at the end of the day, michael kovach has moved onto other big projects, while blake roman is entering his first. and, obviously, don’t fucking harass people. ever.

also, please just give blake roman a chance. he is so fucking talented and his performance thus far has been incredible.

anyways, thanks for coming to my ted talk, yet again. happy new year everyone :D

[wisekiwi123]

The parent wars

Ok I love how this fandom ships Lilia and deduce’s mom because they are both single parents with adorable sons.Then someone else recommend Vil’s dad (I think his name was Eric)since he is also single and might be ready to mingle.

But you know who else the fandom has dubbed as a single adoptive parent of our dear m/c?! DIVUS CREWEL!!!

And now imagine all the dads end up meeting Ms Spade (maybe on parents day at school) and end up falling in love with since she is so HOT , BEAUTIfUL aNd WONDERFUl. So they are now love rivals and they each want to win the Ms Spade heart. Now because the dads are rivals their kids are now rivals since they all want their dads to be happy and let's be honest deuce would make an amazing brother so it is a win win.

But now imagine the CHAOS and DRAMA that will unfold since the kids will battling each other in order to convince deuce that their dad is the best fit for his mom. Like imagine Vil stealing deuce away to his dorm and gives him a list of benfits that he will get if they become sibling (examples: getting tutoring from vil to become an honor student, how there might be adverts about flash bikes (you know those magical motorbikes in their world) or compitions that he can get front roll seats to and most importantly his mom would be set for life).He might have got Rook to do a quick background check and integrated Epel on deuces’ like/dislikes before the meeting.

Then you got M/C who will be normal but say things like how deuce is more then a best friend and that he is a brother to them (insert a very insulted ace who m/c would have explain the situation to later) then u got both ace and m/c start bragging about how crewel is best and if he does hypercritically marry Ms Spade not only will he help with his studies but they can have so many sleep overs at crewel’s house since they will be living together.

Then you got Silver who is a bit confused but got spirit. He might honestly think that he and Deuce are brothers now from the way Lilia talks like he and Deuce’s mom are already married plus Silver would be happy if there were more humans in the family. I honestly think that Silver would be the most chill not that pushy but teach deuce things like how to sword fight and help him with his homework(if he doesn't fall asleep)

But the most funniest thing about this love square is that it would turn huge very fast because of Vil , M/C and Silvers friends will get involved. Like you got M/C with the first years supporting team Crewel. Vil and his entire dorm on team Eric and then you got Lilia being backed by the Prince of Briar Valley and his people. Not to mention the potential traitors *cough* *cough* Sebek or even Epel (btw I am not saying that they both are not loyal but Sebek’s heart belongs to Mallus and Lila first before anything else while Epel might get threatened with more makeup routines or something but properly not actual betray m/c since he is a ride or die but instead become something like a double agent.) Some of the dorms would be on the m/c side while others would stay neutral (the fish mafia might start a betting pool while Cater ends up posting the situation on Magiscram making the entire internet spilt between who would win the single mother’s heart ) Majority of the staff try stay neutral but are all on team Crewel and situations ends up becoming like a huge source of entertainment better then any reality t/v show (some producers ended up coming and asking if they can make it a show since Eric and Vil are involved but the got told to buzz off since this is a private matter)

Meanwhile, poor Deuce is lost on what to do and only wants his mom to be happy and is not sure how to deal with all this. Let's not forget that he also has to deal with his mom’s potential boyfriends trying to win his favour which is a whole other situation.

Anyway that's it folks thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

(also this is my first time contributing to a fandom. So Hi I am Kiwi and I give my greetings to the people of tumber. Please let me know if I make any mistakes and I wish you all a goodnight/day)

[natsukashinico]

i’m so tired of ayumu being disregarded as the “annoying,” “petty,” “toxic,” “unlikable” leader of the love live! groups.

ayumu’s mere existence marks a huge turning point for the love live! franchise. she was our first leader who broke the trend of “genki smile-attribute girl who’s a ray of sunshine, but sometimes gets sad because not every day can be a sunny day. :(”

now, i love honoka and chika with my whole heart, believe me, but it’s so refreshing to break that formula. it’s such a breath of fresh air to have a leader who’s unsure of herself and her group right off the bat, who isn’t naïvely charging forward to chase her goals, hell, who isn’t even chasing her own goals.

ayumu doesn’t even particularly care for or want to be an idol, she just wants to fulfill her girlfriend’s (oh, it’s not technically canon yet? sighhh fiiiinneeee) “dearest friend’s” wishes. she is the first leader who doesn’t become an idol for her own sake or for her school’s, but for yuu’s.

she is selfish, she is petty, she is clingy, but she’s sixteen. like you were a saint when you were a teenager? like you weren’t just as, if not more, petty and unsure of yourself? please.

while honoka and chika highlight the wonderful impulsiveness and childish naïveté of adolescence, ayumu encompasses the insecurities, the dependency on others, and the desire to please others, even at the detriment of oneself.

… and honestly? for that reason, ayumu already immediately feels like a more grounded and realistic character. somebody that girls her age can actually relate to and see themselves in — insecurities, pettiness, clinginess, and all.

this isn’t even to say that honoka and chika don’t have problems — trust me, if you think that, you clearly haven’t read the stories in the games or watched the animes — but that’s all they are to them. problems. everybody has those, and frankly? the two of them resolve those problems rather quickly. they’re fleeting, inconsequential things to them. they solve their problems more like adults would, and take most things in stride.

(yes, i’m proud of My Girls™, how could you tell?)

ayumu’s problems are deep-seated. when something arises, instead of vocalizing her discomfort, she keeps quiet and internalizes it — we see her doing this at least once in every episode of the nijigasaki anime, up until it reaches a head later in the show with her confrontation of yuu. she lets things fester and build up inside of her until, regardless of how trivial they seem to those from the outside looking in, they seem like world-ending dilemmas to her.

in short, her problem-solving skills are nonexistent, not unlike those of most teens her age.

anyway! let’s all appreciate the love live! team for giving us more well-rounded, flawed, realistic characters in their media instead of hating on a sixteen-year-old for, well, acting like a sixteen-year-old.

TL;DR: stop hating on ayumu for acting like we know you acted at her age! teens are petty, insecure, and confused little critters, and that’s okay!

thanks for coming to my ted talk. 🎀

[slaaverin]

Last bluemoonpunch's reading

Excuse me ladies and gentleman but this here is my last day as a jikooker, I'm retiring. Can't take it anymore.

Their last reading is REALLY enlightening. I'm so mind-blown I need to share a few snippets so that the message truly sink in.

*speaking of "Temperance"

"It is quite nice though if you consider that no matter how much other people try and destroy their image, and no matter how much they limit themselves for the sake of peace, they remain a star, the remain as some kind of celestial image that you can imagine floating brightly in the sky, looking down on everything with a sense of understanding and compassion."

Jimin really is an absolute angel, just putting that here because with the amount of hate he receives on the daily I would have lost it.

Now about the relationship:

"This is quite funny because all throughout this I’ve been trying to figure out if this is a connection that is already in play on a conscious and physical level, or if I’m just picking up on the inherent soul connection. With these cards it’s like saying, “No, I’m not WAITING for this person, they’re right here! No, I’m not SNEAKING AROUND with this person, they’re right here! No, you’re not MISSING anything, it’s right here!”"

DON'T YOU SAY? IT'S RIGHT THERE? I WONDER WHAT THIS COULD BE. OH MY. crying shaking throwing up currently

"The 7 of Swords shows a person sneaking around, specifically stealing swords and doing so in a way that’s going to trip him up. If we consider the potential of Temperance also being in the entertainment industry, there may be a need to keep things quiet, but there is no desire, with the card in reverse, to go unnoticed. The swords are still held by the blade, words, confirmation are still held back, but there is no desire to hide or “sneak around.” This connection is a visible connection to both him and other people."

Did I tell you that recently Jungkook put Jimin's name on his chest? I think they really want it to be visible. And we saw it, because we have two functioning eyes.

"It’s like they were signaling or trying to slyly put themselves out there, but people refused or maybe even denied the connection in terms of their companies or management refusing a public relationship. On some level people are refusing them while accepting others and it’s very frustrating and confusing, specifically to Jungkook. It seems like, from that higher perspective, Temperance understands it, does not like it but understands it and is more compliant with the idea of needing to sneak or keep things hidden. There actually does seem to be a lot of frustration in this set now that I’m lingering on this one — “No, you’re not MISSING anything, it’s right here!”"

Well Jungkook did do a live entirely focused on Jimin basically professing his undying love for him. So it's safe to say he's not really into the "sneaking around" thing, if he could tell the world right now our man would in a heartbeat. Thank god Jimin is the level-headed one lmao

"The 10 of Pentacles is more externalized and has to do with legacy and building up wealth, status, and solid foundations for themselves and their family that can be trusted, that can not be undone or taken away. The 10 of Cups is more internalized and represents absolute bliss, absolute personal, internal happiness and satisfaction with what is there. Both of these cards imply family, marriage, and growing old together."

Until they are 50? Until the end of their lives? Family? Ok this is for me folks, I can die in fucking peace. Not that it's not something we already knew but STILL.

As jikookers we truly always win it's crazy *unhinged laugh*

Let me go back to sleep it's 5am.

It's only little snippets but I highly encourage you to go read the full reading for better understanding.

Hey, look at us, who would have thought? Not me 👀 OR MAYBE WE KNEW ALL ALONG???? Anyway good stuff

Jikook are in love.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

Read here

[lana7779]

They look extra gay because I have no chill.

Ot3 rambles under the cut for those interested!

Ever just love three characters so much you decide to make them work despite two of them explicitly canonically hating each other, the other two are biological brothers, and the third pairing has a 15 year age gap?(Wow, that sounded a lot less problematic in my head...)

Anyways!

They're in love, your honour.

All three of them. Between each other. I refuse to see it any other way. (If you don't agree, that's perfectly fine, these are just my personal Ot3 thoughts.)

Break made little Vince's wish come true by reuniting him with his long lost brother. I wonder how much of Vince's wish influenced Break's decision to make Gil his left eye within the Nightray manor. Would he have asked the same of any poor sap he found out in the rain, or did he conveniently do it because he knew the Nightrays held his brother there and it was his way of giving back to this child he was somehow connected with through the Abyss? His ill omened little brother.

Did Vince put two and two together that it was Break who brought him Gil? Did that ever come up in conversation between them? Like "how convenient that I asked you to send anyone matching Gil's description to the Nightray manor and one day Gil just showed up wrapped up in a bow for adoption."

With that said, Vince's childhood was so messed up... so bloody messed up, my heart weeps for him. No wonder he started showing these incestuous tendencies towards his own brother, who was the only good thing in his life. It's his coping mechanism in a sense, to love his brother above anything else so... passionately.

Frankly, Gil is no less messed up because of his own childhood, but he wants to feel needed, and he is certainly needed by both Vince and Break. Reluctantly, and after a lot of soul searching, he accepts Vince for who he is, and of course he accepts Break, which comes with a lot of teasing and pushing him to his limits. Without Break, he wouldn't be half of the person he could be if the other wouldn't be pushing him beyond his limit constantly (as any good mentor should).

And yes, though Break teases Gil a lot about being mopey and useless, he'd never let anything actually happen to Gil and actually only ever has his best interests in mind, at least on a psychological level. So whether they like it or not, they need each other and rely on each other to be at their best. Gil, via cooking for and maintaining Break's health, and Break, via literally pulling Gil out of brainwashed psychosis.

Similarly, because of Break's caring nature, he can't let Vince commit the irreversible, and that finally slaps some sense into dear ol' Vince to recognize that Break isn't the bad guy, and perhaps he never was.

And thus, with this mutual trust, shared by some deep seated trauma between each other, I see them all bonding with each other and forming deeper connections over time that would lead into a healthy relationship.

At first I thought Gil would be the sole key keeping them together and happy, but after finding all the crumbs that support that Vince and Break could very much work with each other as well, yeah, I think that each pair can exist happily independent of each other, but by God is it so much better to just imagine them polyamourously working together.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk, this is my first ot3, and I have entirely too many thoughts about them. 💖

[fluffshi-wxffle]

So, for your Shadow Milk Dad au, just on the idea for a "Good" Ending PV splits the Burden of the Soul Jam with SM, forcefully taking on part of the Burden and to some extent freeing SM from corruption.

I've a headcanon that SM's was a name they chose after their corruption and were originally Blueberry Milk/Yoghurt Cookie and the Blueberry Yoghurt Academy's founder, or maybe it was founded by 2 Cookies and one was Blueberry Milk Cookie.

Like PV only went to school there because of familiarity and having been "thrown" through a portal and waking up with amnesia.

But that's just my HC, Anyways! PV takes on more of the Burden and with their mind at least partially freed our Heroes now have both an Ally and somebody to gain information from!!

BM as I shall now be referring to them as, tells them how/why PV lost his memories about the other SB both before and after their corruption and perhaps information on the Witches and why they seemed to have become so Black and White.

Anyways thanks for coming to my Ted Talk, Have a wonderful day.

//That's a nice way of seeing it! I do have a good ending in mind/the more canonical-ish version (at least canonical to the AU because we dont know what Devsis will do with the Beasts.) And this is some of it! I did mention before I would like to see the Beasts as silly aunts and uncles like the Diamonds are in Steven Universe so as a reverse from the corruption, PV helps uncorrupt SM and with SM's help they uncorrupt the others one by one :D